


Red Queen Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles

by FoxoftheDesert



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26602969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxoftheDesert/pseuds/FoxoftheDesert
Summary: Various ficlets I've written for Tumblr.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Red Riding Hood | Ruby
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Red Queen Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Response to [this post](https://loudestdork.tumblr.com/post/626980351548571648/) by [loudestdork](https://loudestdork.tumblr.com/).

**Part 1**

Regina stared in dumbfounded astonishment at the equally awestruck girl currently occupying her personal space.

 _It has to be wrong_ , she thought, beginning to internally panic. That she wasn’t a bit enraged that she’d been nearly bowled over did not even occur to her when the object of her focus was undeniably aglow with shimmering golden magic that would only be visible to her. Tinker Bell had told her as much when she cast the locator spell earlier that afternoon.

_**She** _ _has to be wrong. Hideously wrong. There is no way in hell that this waifish girl, this...undignified highlander, is the intended target!_

Surely Tinker Bell had made some unforgivable mistake in casting the spell meant to seek out her Soul Mate. The disgustingly optimistic faerie had openly confessed to being a relative neophyte, after all. And weren’t neophytes prone to disastrous mistakes? God knows she made many reckless errors of her own during the nascent days of her training.

And yet...faerie magic, novice though it was in this case, was almost universally accepted to be notoriously dependable. No other schools approached the lofty accuracy achieved by a faerie plying her – or his – trade. According to Rumplestiltskin, who was loathe to admit such, fae wizardry produced results that bordered on the irreproachable.

Could the paragon of all dark magic have really been so grossly mistaken in assessing faerie enchantments? The likelihood seemed absurdly remote. Regina had never known her nearly-deific teacher to be false in such regards.

And yet evidence to the contrary was literally gawking right back at her, and with such enormous, expressive, mesmerizing eyes of a brilliant shade that rather resembled a lush forest canopy at the height of summer.

Frankly, if she was being honest with herself, Regina would have to concede that this girl really was quite stunning in general. Beyond so, actually. With such enviable luscious brown hair, splendidly arched brows, a perfectly planed nose, a jawline seemingly sculpted by some celestial artist unknown or heard of by lowly mortals, and wide full lips simply begging to be kissed, there was little hope an equal to the crimson-caped beauty before her could be located in _any_ world. Even she, prized by her pig of a husband and adored by her so-called subjects as the most beautiful woman in all the lands, simply could not compare.

Regina shook her head, her brow furling at the turn of her thoughts. The girl was so beautiful that Regina actually found herself short of breath as she grew increasingly warm all over and the tips of her fingers and toes began to tingle. Quite against her will, and to her deep shame, it seemed she was turning into a living cliche. Well, she wouldn’t have it! Only love-stricken fools felt such naive emotions, and she had long since been cured of them. Her mother had seen to that with a cruel fist.

Still, wish as she might, she could not deny what was happening to her body any more than she could the moon’s strange attraction to the sun. To do so would be a lie of preposterous proportions, and Regina was suddenly very very tired of lying.

“Oh! H-hello. I...I’m s-so, so very sorry I bumped into you,” the girl eventually stuttered, a pretty blush darkening her already cold-ruddied cheeks as she shifted shyly and nervously wrung her hands.

At long last, Regina felt her temper awaken in response to the rapid elevation of her blood pressure. That overly demure response reminded her of someone for whom it was all to easy to summon disgust. Straightening her back so as to appear properly imperious, she sneered out her response.

“Yes, well next time perhaps you ought to pay attention to your surroundings instead of blundering about like an unleashed bull in breeding season.”

“More like a wolf in heat, I’d say,” the girl muttered under her breath, now appearing less reproached than she ought to have considering to whom she had addressed such an inappropriate comment.

Regina narrowed her eyes dangerously. “If you are intelligent enough to heed sage advice, which I am inclined to doubt, I would suggest you watch your tongue when speaking to your Queen.”

One of the girl’s ridiculously arched brows rebelliously quirked up. “If you are a Queen as you say, what are you doing down here slumming with the rest of us simple folk? Getting a taste of the low life, _Your Majesty?_ ”

Regina visibly bristled with offense. No one had dared such brazen conversation with her in years. There was a part of her which admired the steel spine this young woman possessed, but it was not in charge of her faculties at present. She could not afford to look weak before anyone, especially not before a peasant woman whose sass should by all rights afford her an unmitigated slap across the face.

With her inherent sense of superiority returning, Regina summoned her most imperious tone. “How dare you speak to me with such blatant, disrespectful, contemptuous impertinence! I ought to demand your tongue.”

Rather than be frightened, the girl had the audacity to grin. And not a playful or sheepish grin. Oh, no. This was an expression with which predators would with gleeful intent survey their unsuspecting prey. Smoldering eyes now tinged amber around the edges languidly appraised Regina’s form from head to toe only to abruptly snap back up, causing Regina to – quite accidentally out of surprise, you see – yield a pace.

“If you want my tongue you can have it any time you wish,” the girl said, voice now husky with unsubtle innuendo. “Just tell me when and where. And by where I don’t mean geographical location.”

Flabbergasted beyond belief at the utter temerity of this creature, Regina spluttered as her cheeks flamed to a temperature at what must be approximate to that at which water boils.

“Why...why you...you...”

“Red.”

The unprompted non-sequitur stunned Regina almost as acutely as the obscene insinuation that preceded it. Several times she opened her mouth as though to retort acerbically, only to snap it shut, all at once perturbed and flummoxed and more than a little aroused at the thought of a darkly-curtained head ducking underneath her hefted skirts. Unbidden, her core clenched and throbbed and turned liquid with heat so that she felt compelled to surreptitiously squeeze her legs together in order to relieve the unexpected pressure.

“Pardon me?” she asked, upon having somewhat recovered her composure. The ache between her legs remained, albeit fading quickly.

Self-control was not easy for her to master. As a young girl she was impulsive and stubborn to a fault, but between her two ruthless instructors, she had learned it nonetheless.  
  
“My name,” the shameless girl then replied, though said shamelessness was evaporating as though vapor. As if what the previous double entendre implied only just registered, the girl ducked her head, thoroughly abashed. When she dared to lift her gaze once more, her expression was desperately remorseful. “My name is Red. And look, I really am sorry about bumping into you. And I’m really, really, _really_ sorry about how I talked to you, especially about what I just said. I wish I could explain my behavior but I can’t. It was like something came over me, like someone or something else had control of me. Almost as if some...some...”

“Some magic compelled you?” Regina finished, understanding completely what Red was experiencing. She, too, was acting completely out of character. If any other person had behaved as Red just did, they would likely be condemned to an eternal night spent confined within the nearest cold, smelly, cramped dungeon cell.

As if Regina’s response was precisely what she was aiming at, Red sighed with relief. With an apologetic smile that was obviously genuine, she nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Has that ever happened to you?”

“Not for a long time,” Regina said plainly.

Although surprised by her own honesty, she did not regret it. Perhaps in another life, with another person, she might have already run for the hills and ruined what might be – if Tinker Bell is to be believed – her last chance at love. But for whatever reason, be it fate or the magic resident between Soul Mates or a temporary bout of delusional irrationality, she could not for the life of her summon the will to flee. How could she when Red was softly radiating the most lovely, seductive, comforting aura of magic she has ever encounter and which is solely intended for _her_?

As ridiculous as it felt to be considering acceptance of this existentially-vital truth being offered to her in the form of Venus incarnate, it seemed beyond insane to reject what might turn out to be the greatest gift ever bestowed upon her. She did not know anything about Red, nor did she enough of the fairy whose sorcery lead her here, yet the magic visibly surrounding Red was also invisibly working upon her heart as well, swiftly alighting what once was a place defined by darkness. She could feel it down the to marrow of her bones, a reawakening of her better nature that was being accomplished with tender nudges and reassuring her with alluring whispers so starkly contrasted to her mother’s heartless admonitions or the deceptiveness of Rumple’s vacuous promises.

As someone who felt increasingly like she was undeserving of any goodness in her life, could she afford to overlook so appealing an alternative to continuing down a road that even one so addled as she frequently was by bitterness and rage could understand ended only in a pit of despair from whence there would be no escape? Her innocence was unrecoverable, that much was crystal clear, but if what was happening to her right now was any reliable indication happiness was not.

With startling clarity, she realized there was a chance for her to obtain what she had always truly desired. A chance she had thought robbed forever from her when Da...-

Shaking her head to keep from veering down that particularly dark path, she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. Suddenly and inexplicably smiling, she made a calculated decision to throw caution to the wind. She had done so once and was still paying the price, but perhaps, just perhaps, fate would not be so merciless as to tease her a second time with the ultimate intention of destroying what ragged slivers remained of her innate goodness.

She was going to roll the dice and prayed to any god willing to listen that they came up all sixes.

“Regina.”

“What?”

“My name is Regina,” she said, smile widening at Red’s rather adorable confusion. “I suppose if you are going to ignore my station, you may refer to me with at least some degree of propriety.”

As expected Red totally ignored the jab at their social inequality. Instead, she tilted her head studiously, much like a pup evaluating a new toy, and chewed on her bottom lip until a smile bloomed across her mouth with the same invigorating warmth as spring arriving in the wake of a hostile winter.

“Regina,” Red’s testing of her name was breathy and light, as though it was magical, something precious that was never to be abused. Regina was stricken by the thought that she had never heard it sound so wonderful, not even from her beloved father’s lips.

“Regina,” Red again stated, this time with a firm nod that accompanied a twinkling in her eyes. “I like it. It suits you.”

“I’m so glad you think so, dear,” Regina said, managing to sound confident yet playful though she was still secretly affected from hearing her name spoken with such angelic reverence. “I’m sure my parents would agree that it would constitute an outrageous travesty should I have to change it solely due to your disapproval.”

Red’s responding bark of laughter resonated through the square, and pierced straight into Regina’s chest where it lodged within the chambers of her heart. The last vestiges of resistance inside of her break then, shattered what used to be a long-frozen barrier erected to restrain the tidal forces of her ability to truly _feel_.

For so long she had been consumed by an overwhelming desire for revenge that she convinced herself anything outside of that objective died along with Daniel. But she was wrong. So very wrong. It hadn’t died at all. Instead of destroying it she had merely caged it, locked it away, and then carelessly disregarded its existence falsely believing no one could ever discover it, let alone set it free.

But someone had, and all thanks to Tinker Bell. Damn that meddlesome fairy to the depths of the seventh hell. Damn her and bless her. Regina wasn’t sure yet which was preferable at the moment, but she was certain she would soon receive an answer one way or the other. Yesterday, if she had been told she would wind up hoping for the latter rather than the former she would have cackled until her stomach was in knots and her head was being assaulted by fervent pounding of Apollo’s drums. But that was yesterday, and yesterday she hadn’t met Red.

Who was this girl who by virtue of only sass and a smile managed to enchant the Dark One’s star pupil? Regina did not yet know, and she could hardly wait to find out.

“Beautiful and funny and royal to boot,” Red chirped, animated with joy that seemed to spring from some inexhaustible well. “You are chock full of surprises aren’t you, Your Highness?”

“That I am,” Regina said, almost buoyant. After being so long submerged, she felt out sorts, like a fish out of water, or maybe more like a bedridden invalid learning to walk again having spent a decade abed.

And yet, in the presence of Red’s effervescent energy and inundated by the magic operating between them, it was easy to forget that she should most certainly not feel this way. It should not be so effortlessly simple to dismiss the oppressive realty that was her existence; that she was a Queen, and a wife, and a step-mother, and a captive in all but name; that she was haunted by a dead stable boy, perpetually afraid of a heartless mother, and beholden to a devil-man with unnatural powers at his fingertips. She was not free to give any part of herself, physically or emotionally, to anyone other than those who for all intents and purposes owned her.

But wasn’t that the point Tinker Bell was trying to make by saving her life? That she was not, as she had persuaded herself, without hope or wholly without agency in the direction of her life. The people she saw as captors and obstacles might not be quite as insurmountable as she had built them up to be to excuse her lack of action to rectify the crimes against her. She could have acted at any time. She could have have slit her husbands throat on their wedding night and then done the same to Snow only to blame the nefarious deed on some midnight intruder. She could have found her mother’s heart and crushed it instead of banishing her. She could have pointed Rumplestiltskin to the nearest sheer cliff and told him to pretend he was a bird instead of a slimy lizard. Yet night after night she endured her personal hell. They had, each of them in their own way, defeated her without her having fought back.

Why had she let it happen? That was a question for which she did not have an answer.

But these things she did know. Her husband rarely touched her after consummating the marriage and barely paid attention to her outside of her duties to his insufferable daughter. Snow, spoiled brat that she was, was oblivious to everything that wasn’t directly related to her own immediate gratification. Her mother was out of the picture, trapped in a realm with few if any means of return.

As for Rumplestiltskin...well, if Regina had learned anything from her teacher it was that no one can know everything. Magic has limits, as do people, and to the present he had proven himself less than interested in her personal life beyond stoking her hatred of Snow and Leopold and ensuring she rely upon him to teach her magic as her exclusive method of escape. Lately she got the impression that he was spoon-feeding her very deliberately without any intention of providing her with the means to enact her vengeance. And wasn’t he away on his <i>business</i> more often than not?

All things taken into consideration, Regina was a very lonely woman with plenty of idle time on her hands. Should she wish, and should this attraction bear the fruit that already was blossoming on the vine, she could have Red installed close by to the castle. It would not be difficult to arrange whatever privacy and time they required.

A plot began to emerge in her mind. A plot that could get her all that she wanted without sacrificing anything. Love _and_ revenge. Wouldn’t that be sweet?

Yes, if she was careful – very careful, indeed – she could have this one outlet of independence, this slice of selfish happiness no one else could intrude upon, and this time no one would be allowed to take it from her. No one.

“However,” she said after a fleeting pause, invitation dancing toward Red with every syllable, “it will take much more than a pretty face and a lack of manners to suss them out of me. I am a Queen, after all. As you should be well aware, Queen requires someone worthy to claim her attention.”

Red’s entire countenance shifted from light joviality to weighty determination. She answered through a smile that reminded Regina once again of a wolf on the hunt, only not for a meal but for a mate.

“Oh, that sounds like a challenge I simply can’t resist. Lucky for me then that I am more than up for it. Or maybe I should say lucky for you?”

“We shall see, won’t we little wolf?” Regina said, and she could swear as she turned to waltz away that she witnessed those gorgeous eyes flash an ethereal yellow and heard a growl rumble low through Red’s chest.

“Yes we will, Your Majesty. Yes we will.”

Red’s parting promise followed Regina all the way back to the carriage. And as would soon prove to be usual, she made good on it.

* * *

**Part 2**

“Honey, I’m home!”

Regina turned from the kitchen counter, scowling. While Ruby was not oblivious as to how much she detested such pet names, they kept being directed her way without fail. Apparently five years in the Enchanted Forest and twenty-seven going on twenty-eight in Storybrooke were not adequate for her perpetually youthful partner to heed her warnings. Ruby was as fierce and fearless as she was passionate and kind. Just like Red. It’s what made her Regina’s perfect companion, and went a long way toward explaining why she was so damn successful as a real estate developer.

One of the few clauses Regina had managed to insert undetected into the Dark Curse was a clause ensuring Red would remain at her side and share equally in her hard won victory over Snow White. That they had disagreed often and vociferously about the means of obtaining said triumph at the expense of so many did not deter Regina from graciously providing for her beloved wolf in the fine print. They had only been lovers back in the old world, Regina having been unwilling to abdicate the throne after Leopold’s demise in order to marry a peasant and Red equally unwilling to ask her to. But in this world, she refused to allow anyone tell her what she could or could not do. So while the state of Maine may not recognize their vows, the city of Storybrooke most certainly did.

Marriage was not the only splendid feature of the Curse so far as Red was concerned. As proprietor of the only real estate agency in Storybrooke and owner of a number of properties eclipsed only the imp with a limp, the loathsome Mr. Gold, she was the wealthiest woman in town. Which suited Regina just fine, as she tended to crave power more than money. That she was similar to her mother in that way was a fact she refused to acknowledge, even to herself. Besides, having a filthy rich wife made a life that would have already been privileged in excess even more so. This world was replete with extravagant conveniences readily available for even for those of the plebeian class, but Regina and Ruby lived in luxury vastly beyond the imagination of any inhabitant of Misthaven.

For starters, their home was an absolute work of art perched upon the most premium parcel of land in town. From the exquisite Lexington furniture to the imported Italian marble flooring, no expense was spared to ensure their abode was the envy of all who were fortunate enough to glimpse the interior. They prepared their meals from within the confines of an immaculate kitchen any five star chef would be proud of and made love upon a bed royalty would envy while sheets that felt like liquid air caressed their skin. The furnishings of their master bathroom were equivalent in cost to a small starter house.

Hell, even their motor vehicles screamed opulence, as they boasted features available to only the upper echelons of the elite. Regina treasured hers almost as much as Ruby did her _Rosso Chiaro_ Ferrari 308. The only thing that gave her more satisfaction than seeing the men of Storybrooke yearn for her Mercedes was their chauvinistic covetousness whenever Ruby slithered into one of her more risque dresses on date night.

They had every right to be envious, Regina thought, and with no small amount of smug glee. Ruby was the most beautiful woman in town – in all the world if Regina was consulted - and aside from her the most successful. With legs every girl pleaded with God for at thirteen, a head of hair Walt Disney couldn’t have drawn, a lithe body as feminine as it was athletic, and a face that made Aphrodite seethe with sullen resentment, what wasn’t there to desire?

It was also no secret that their sex life was fantastic. When Ruby exuded sensuality from every pore, it was impossible to deduce otherwise. She wore her sexuality like a badge of honor and wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed or bothered by Regina’s impulsive displays of possessiveness whenever she caught unwelcome eyes leering at what belonged to her.

And Ruby did belong to her. And she belonged to Ruby. They fucked like rabbits, competed in just about everything like starving alphas after a bloody steak, quarreled sometimes until the tears rained down, each worshiped one as though no deities existed besides the other, and everybody who knew them wanted what they had. Were they perfect? No. But they were perfect for each other and there wasn’t a soul in Storybrooke who would profess otherwise.

As if their material possessions and martial bliss were not enough, nine years ago they had adopted a son, completing their family. Henry was a wonderful child, everything Regina had hoped for. Introspective though he was, he was thoughtful, kind, polite, well read, well behaved, and easily the smartest boy in his class. He was the apple of Ruby’s eye and Regina’s pride and joy.

All things considered, they were happy. Regina was happy. Truly happy. If she were asked by a genie in a bottle once again what she wanted, she could say with total confidence that she lacked nothing.

Though Rumpelstiltskin thought otherwise, Regina was not an idiot. Red entering her life opened her eyes to many of his dastardly machinations. He had not intended for this curse to be her happy ending but his. What his end game was, she still could not nor would she wager a guess, but she did know that her family was not a part of it. For that very reason, she both watched her old mentor _very_ closely and cherished as best she could the happiness she had wrested from his greedy little claws.

Indulging Ruby’s idiosyncrasies then, a few of which threatened to drive her toward the brink of madness, was a price she was more than willing to pay to maintain that happiness.

“How many times must I remind you not to call me that?” Regina called out, mostly feigning irritation.

Arms folded across her chest, she delicately leaned her hip against the counter as she counted the cacophonous clicks of an inordinately high heel. _Five, four, three, two, one._ Right on cue, Ruby appeared in the doorway. Hair still in an immaculate bun, sleeveless blood red top and high-waisted black pencil skirt cinched with a boldly buckled belt, she more resembled a fashion magazine model than a small town business woman. Put her out on a house showing, however, and she became every bit the predator that she was. Unsuspecting buyers beware. None stood a snowball’s chance in hell against the wolf in high heels.

Ruby’s business acumen had been a marvelous surprise when they first arrived in Storybrooke. As Red, she had shown mostly contempt for the governance of state, much preferring to serve as the long fangs of the Queen’s law. Regina never once underestimated Red’s intelligence, as no plot conceived against her had ever reached the execution stage. With Red in charge of her security, enemies were invariably identified and eliminated before their seedling plots ever sprouted limbs. To the contrary, here in Storybrooke Ruby crunched numbers, applied regulations, and handled monetary transactions as if _she_ were Midas’ offspring instead of that tepid blonde Abigail. Regina could not be more proud that she was chosen above all others to be loved by so exquisite a creature.

In a plethora of ways, more than could be mentioned, Ruby was better than this quaint little town. But Regina did not like to think about that very much.

“As many as it takes, babe,” Ruby gave her standard reply with a saucy wink and a signature grin.

Regina rolled her eyes and huffed half-heartedly. Not even half-heartedly. More like quarter-heartedly if that was such a thing. Frankly she was more annoyed at herself than anything else at falling victim to Ruby’s charm. There really were very few checks that smile could not cash.

To avoid being further corrupted by her wife’s infectious positivity, Regina returned to the task of dicing the ham, onions and potatoes laid out upon the cutting board. As advanced as this world was in nearly every regard, an appetizing dinner still did not make itself.

“Let’s hope for the sake of my sanity we are nearing that magical number.”

Five giraffe-gaited steps later, Regina both felt and heard Ruby’s hungry humming as a slim frame molded to hers from behind.

“ _Tortilla Española_? You sure do know the way to a girl’s heart.”

Spoken into her neck to distract her, the minx...

“If by heart you mean the bottomless pit that is your stomach, then yes, I do,” Regina retorted, wise to her wife’s antics. She then batted without success at a thieving paw that managed to nab a handful of ham cubes. “And if you know want to keep your fingers attached to your hand, I would advise that you refrain from stealing any more of those.”

“My fingers are perfectly safe, thank you very much,” Ruby replied as she finished smacking contentedly on her pilfered treat. Though still mostly plastered to her backside, Ruby had enough sense not to chew in Regina’s ear. “I happen to know you need them on a nightly basis. Not that I’m complaining mind you. My incredibly talented and dexterous fingers are ever at your service, milady. I could demonstrate for you right here and now if you wish.”

Regina chuckled in spite of herself. So many years had passed yet Ruby was still the same headstrong, rebellious, sassy, and very naughty girl Regina met all those years ago in Nottingham.

Smirking at Ruby over her shoulder, Regina ground her rear into Ruby’s pelvis. “Is that so? What if I were to inform you that there are a variety of convenient _devices_ with which to pleasure myself and that I no longer require your noble services?”

Toys were a regular part of their sex life. The reference was merely part of their game. In particular it was meant a teasing insult to Ruby, who prided herself on her sexual prowess.

She once told Regina: “ _If I can’t get you off more than twice, I’m not doing my job very well._ ” Like a tried and true overachiever, Ruby did her job very well, indeed.

Returning to the present, Regina smirked at the warning growl she received in response to her needling. Her arrow had struck its target, so to speak. She had been fully aware what was about to happen and deliberately provoked it.

Truth be told she got a tiny bit wet just by visually feasting upon the biological work of art that was her wife framed by the doorway of their kitchen. It didn’t take much for Ruby to turn her on under less than ideal circumstances. Even disheveled after just waking up with bed head and bleary eyes the woman was a solid ten, which would have normally disgusted Regina if she weren’t the lone beneficiary. And there was that whole effortless, oozing sensuality thing that Ruby had going for her. The way she moved with epitomized grace and efficiency, the way her eyes weren’t just a mirror into her soul but turned it inside out for all the world to see, the satin texture of her voice that when applied with even the most minute traces of desire sent Regina’s pulse racing in many different regions. Ruby was a siren goddess wrapped in pale skin who possessed a wild, ancient power even the Dark One feared.

Regina did not need anyone to tell her she was a lucky bitch.

Adding to all of that, she had been fantasizing all day at work about about Ruby barging into the office in a fit of passion, manhandling her out of her chair, bending her over the desk, and then proceeding fuck her utterly senseless. Needless to say, with that scenario on the brain for nearly eight hours it would have been nigh on impossible to resist even the most subtle of advances.

“Fuck that,” Ruby said, grabbing Regina by the hips to twirl her around in place.

Deftly and precisely, Ruby pushed the cutting board to the side without displacing a single item, then unceremoniously yanked Regina’s skirt up with zero regard whatsoever for the delicacy of the expensive fabric. Being too far gone to care at that point, Regina did not register the sound of virgin wool being rent, nor did she protest at being lifted by the thighs up onto her previously sanitary counter.

Ruby was right; she needed those magical fingers, and all she wanted in the entire world right now was for them to be buried up to the hilt inside of her while Ruby swallowed up her ecstasy with consuming kisses that left no doubt as to who was in control of this encounter. She wanted to cum so hard her eyes rolled, her toes curled, her body trembled, and breathing became impossible for so long that she almost lost consciousness. Only one person could give her that. So fuck Versace. Skirts could be replaced; mind-blowing orgasms cannot.

“Don’t even pretend one of those confounded things can do what I can do,” Ruby murmured into her neck, lips trailing against her skin as she roughly groped her ass. “Fingers or strap, I’m better than any fucking vibrator and there are scratches in the bed post to prove it.”

“Yesterday’s news,” Regina said, breath hitching over every word as Ruby latched on to her pulse point then began laving it with her tongue.

Pulling away, Ruby cupped Regina over her panties, eliciting a broken moan. “I don’t give a fuck about yesterday, woman. I’m about to give you a brand new headline: Respected Mayor Alarms Neighbors With Hysterical Sex Screams.”

“Nobody would print such a ridiculous headline.”

Regina attempted to sound reproachful with that retort but failed miserably. Ruby’s palm was now making languid circles around her clit and she had a difficult time formulating even that cogent remark.

“I would,” Ruby asserted with a cheeky grin, then rubbed Regina harder to prove her point.

“Fuck!” Regina groaned, and her head lolled back as a wave of pleasure made her core clench. “Of course you would because you are eternally immature.”

That statement made Ruby pause her lovely ministrations. Through narrowed eyes she huffed, “I may very well be immature, but you’re the one who married me. So you don’t get to say shit like that. Especially when I’m about to make you see stars.”

Provocatively spreading her legs for Ruby, whose nostrils flared and pupils dilated in response, Regina wiggled her hips. For good measure she gave her wife a saucy wink as reassurance that the immaturity of youth that occasionally infuriated her was not at all an irritant at that moment.

“You’d better be quick about it then, darling,” she then said, batting her lashes in an enticing way she knew drove Ruby wild. “Our son will be home soon, and I’d hate to have to explain to him that he won’t have dinner because his mother was too busy devouring hers.”

The grin Ruby replied with was nothing short of wolfish. “Don’t you worry, hot stuff. I’ll have you howling in less than five.”

Regina shuddered from equal measures of arousal and dread. Similar references to the old world had been occurring more and more often in their house. Far too often for comfort. If she didn’t know better, she would be terrified that Ruby was starting to recover glimpses of her memories. Only the motionless clock atop the library reassured her those fears were unfounded. Her precious curse was, for the moment, safe.

“My, my. Such brash confidence,” she said, eyes sliding shut of their own volition as a wet, hot mouth began tortuously ascending her inner thigh. “Are you sure you possess the requisite skill to back it up.”

Ivory canines gleamed in the evening light, bared for a meal of flesh Regina was now desperate to offer up.

After adjusting her skirt, Ruby eagerly dipped down on her haunches, eyes gleaming with feral lust as her free hand disappeared between her own legs. A heartbeat later and her breath was brushing an already stiffening clit. Regina’s entire sex throbbed with eager anticipation.

“Yes, I do, Your Majesty,” Ruby said, gazing up at Regina from the apex of her thighs. “Yes, I do.”

And as usual, she made good on her promise.


End file.
